Apogee Prelude Redux
by chaosticsoul
Summary: Despite abandonment at a young age, Zeer had a typical upbringing—for a wolf demon. But what is his connection to the missing savor of the wizarding world, Harry Potter?
1. 0

Moonlight Sonnet

Apogee Prelude Redux

By: Chaosticsoul  
>Summary: Despite abandonment at a young age, Zeer had a typical upbringing—for a wolf demon. But what is his connection to the missing savor of the wizarding world, Harry Potter?<br>Warning: Eventual BL, Very AU

Part: 0/10

PROLOGUE

Picking up her baby the young woman looks at her husband in terror. "James . . . " The baby, perhaps sensing the fear, lets out a cry and fails his arms slightly, face scrunching up to start a wailing cry. The young mother shushes him and then feels arms wrapping her in a tight embrace.

"I love you Lily." The man looks down at the crying babe and his eyes soften for a moment, clearly showing his pain. "And you Harry."

"I love you James." There's a twist in her gut as she slowly realizes this will be their last exchange. Even as she thinks it there is a horrible crack—the last wards are breaking. James winces in pain and almost doubles over, gasping out as he struggles to get to the door.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off—" Before he can finish his words the door is blasted. Lily screams and runs as James goes flying back, urging herself forward. Part of her wants to stay with her husband, to face their final moments together, but she knows she has to protect her son, even if in her heart she knows that there will be no escape. No doubt Death eaters are everywhere, surrounding the house.

There's a flash of green light, so bright that she can tell it's happened even after she's fled the room. Green eyes search desperately, looking for someplace she can hide her babe before the dark Lord is over her. But in the end, there is no time. The man is before her, cold and cruel, eyes holding a madness from the power corrupting him. His wand is aimed at her son and she turns her back, hugging her son.

"I'm sorry."

There is another flash of green; this time so bright that it's all there is for her.

And then she's gone.

The babe cries as her body crumbles. He doesn't know what's going on but there's been loud noises and it's scary. Eyes opening the teary emerald meets crimson and then there's pain, making the baby cry even more. The man is crying too, by the sound of it, and the babe doesn't understand, all he knows is to cry. He doesn't stop, not until familiar arms pick him up and rock him. Opening his eyes again he sees a familiar face and seems to quiet some.

The owner of the face is not so quiet. He's trying to hold back tears. "It's, it'll be okay Harry. I'll, I'll take care of you." His eyes stayed fixed on the baby, not looking at the carnage, desperately not looking to his best friend. There's anger and illness churning at him, but as he holds Harry he thinks that maybe, maybe he'll be okay. James and Lily—just the thought of them makes him want to vomit and sob—were gone, betrayed, but Harry . . . Harry had survived at least. Sirius would care for him, he would raise him like James always wanted, he would—

"Sirius, give me the boy." His eyes flick to Dumbledore and he shook his head, holding the babe close. His heritage sung to him, warning that something bad would happen should he do what the man said. But the command comes again and with all the people around he can't refuse. Hesitating he hands the baby over, even as it makes pain lace though his heart. Dumbledore checks over the boy and then smiles down at him.

"Harry will be taken to his aunt and uncle." The young man gasps and shakes his head in desperation. "Sirius, we can't let you take him."

"But James told me—"

"I'll take him to St. Mungo's to be examined. He looks fine, but we should check. And then I'll take him to his family. It's finally over." The gathered wizards, who had come expecting to fight and most likely die, all gave a cheer. Sirius was not among them, didn't even move as Dumbledore took away his godson. He felt lost now, completely lost. He had thought, when holding Harry, that perhaps he would be okay. But there was no chance of it now. He needed something to cling to.

So he chose revenge.

AN: I need some feedback here people. What do you think? Is it worth the rewrite?


	2. 1

Moonlight Sonnet

Apogee Prelude Redux

By: Chaosticsoul

Summary: Despite abandonment at a young age, Zeer had a typical upbringing—for a wolf demon. But what is his connection to the missing savor of the wizarding world, Harry Potter?

Warning: Eventual BL, Very AU

AN:  
>Chapters are longer, and hopefully better.<br>To TimeAndRhythmDoesIndeedSleep: Expanding on scenes and characters is my goal for this. I want to flush out more about the world Zeer grows up in and get more on why the people who will most affect his life have chosen what they chose.

Part: 1/10

Taking a step out into the darkness of pre-dawn, Vernon takes a deep breath of the crisp air. The chill helps awaken him. His eyes flick down for the paper but stop seeing a basket left there, for them apparently. He feels a twinge of nervousness, remembering the strange mutterings he had heard the day before, but reluctantly crouches to look. His worst fears are confirmed when he sees green eyes staring up at him and a giggle. Glancing at the house in a panic he doesn't know what to do.

Petunia wouldn't be happy with this. There was so much bad blood between her and her sister, it was noted down, he was sure. The last time the two had been in the same room together there had been such a horrible fight, and no one could even tell who started it. Vernon and James had stopped it as fast as it could, and the two men had hastily agreed that they should see each other again never, dragging their respective wives away.

To raise their son, no. He can't do it. Petunia might have a breakdown, and they have their own son to worry about. Vernon makes good money, sure enough, but the house was not cheap and there were still payments to be made on his own car. He will just need to take him to the orphanage. But will that even work? What if they forced him to raise the child?

Reluctantly he brought it up to his wife, wondering what to do with the child. They debate a bit, the possibility of raising him only being entertained for a half second before Petunia confesses that it was not possible because she will not be in the same house as any spawn of her sister. But the orphanage, she insists, is out. Debating it for some time they decided the best thing to do was to simply . . . get rid of the problem. Neither of the two are comfortable exactly with it, but they were panicked and didn't know what else to do. The boy had been forced on them and it is the only thing they can think of.

"_Take him to the edge of the woods. Wear gloves. Something will happen to him, he'll be found and be someone else's problem or . . . or he won't be anyone's problem."_

It was a good hour drive, but he is sure this way there will be no way to link it to him. There is a camp ground, and he walks with the child in basket to it. Glancing around, the man sets the boy down and then heads to the car without a second glance. For a moment he falters at the door, wondering, but no. If the boy passed then it was probably for the best. No one here can raise his kind anyways.

What he doesn't know is that he is being watched. Two yellow eyes watch from the brush, curious. At first the wolf had been wary of the man's presence, there were poachers in the woods, but this man seemed to be dumping something. What this thing is he doesn't know, the parcel is downwind from him. So slowly Arnou creeps closer, nose twitching lightly. The wind then shifts and he catches the scent of human and an old musty smell, so faint, that he knows is magic.

Cries make his ears perk and head cock to the side. Straightening himself he trots closer and then pokes his nose into the babe's basket. The child cries loudly, but stops at the feel of the wet warm tongue lapping at his little hands and face. Carefully the wolf grasped the cloth wrapped around the boy and lifted him from the basket. Slowly he turns and makes to trot away from the basket and , making sure to be careful with the child. The fabric gives slightly and he quickly lowers his head to let the precious bundle rest on the ground.

Scrunching his nose slightly in distaste he shifts, his muscles aching at the change as striking fur changes to smooth skin. His canines shrink slightly, but keep their point and he runs his much shorter tongue over them. Glancing down he crouches to pick up the boy, holding him in his arms. The babe's face is scrunching up to cry and Arnou frowns, rocking the child. He reminds him of Arnou's own pup. It is inconceivable to him that someone would simply abandon their pup. How could one abandon clan or kin? It is a mortal sin within Arnou's clan, and he would think humans would have similar standards.

It takes longer to reach the clan's territory like this than if he is in his proper form. On the border he pauses and swallows thickly before kneeling down and bowing his head. There is a chance that bringing this outsider, even if he is but a child, into clan territory will end up being a fatal mistake. There has been a pressing threat of magic humans since the war began. Still, a babe like this was far from threatening. It was still a marvel the weapons humans created—on their own they were such weak nonthreatening things. Thin skin, slow speeds.

There is movement and he tenses slightly. The brush parts as two wolfs leap in front of the wolf in human form. "Conrí." A glance is all he dares give to the two wolves. One is a great silver wolf who approaches calmly, while the other—a slender white one—watches the two with fangs barred, ready to attack if given the order. The larger wolf sniffs at the bundle and then looks over Arnou, a low growl of warning coming from him. He seems unsure, debating what to do, when there is a rustle in the bushes to their left. All three wolves look to the bushes and see a pup of the clan clumsily tumble out, yelping as it ends up on its back, looking at the three upside down wolfs. Scrambling to right himself the pup rushes to Arnou and there is a moment of fear. Should the clan leader stike him down here, in front of his dear son . . .

"Papa!" The pup runs around him in a circle and then plops his bottom to the ground. "You're back! But you're a huge-man!" Tilting his head to the side he then ends up tilting his head too far and falls to the side. The silver wolf snorts in amusement and the tense air seems to lessen. Arnou suddenly understands that his son's interference may have just saved his life.

"Hush little pup." Conrí commands softly, and the pup nods and keeps his mouth shut. The silver wolf then turns to Arnou. "Tell me why you have brought this human child with you. You know his kind is forbidden within our territory. To keep him here would be to kill him."

"Then, my lord, kill his humanity." Bowing his head again, Arnou reachs to the child and carefully picks him up. "His own kind abandoned him. His humanity will not be well missed, I am sure."

The babe blinks up at Conrí and smiles, reaching out with small arms towards the fluffy thing. It reminds the babe of his uncle Siri. Uncle Siri sometimes changed to be all hairy and warm and he could pet him and tug on his fuzzy appendages and sometimes daddy would hold him on top and he could ride him. These memories stir in the boy's mind, so he feels no fear of the wolves as one might expect. He liked uncle Siri, so he likes them.

Conrí is suprised by the boy's lack of fear, and slowly he comes to his decision. "As you say. We will kill the humanity within him by Marama's will, and with Khon's blessing he will rise again." It would be up to the gods if the child could survive this, what the wolves proposed was no simple feet. It was nothing as trivial as biting or bloodletting or chanting a few words. There is a high chance the boy might perish, but if he can gain the favor of the sibling gods he will survive, leaving his humanity behind.

And without this he would surely die. A babe left to the woods? Exposure would kill him far quicker than thirst or hunger could. And clan laws forbid a human from being on the marked territory, let alone running with the clan.

There is risk for the child, but risk is better than death.

The wolves begin their journey back to the camp. Remus trots besides his father, pouncing on leaves that move and wagging the entire time. He is oblivious to the tension that had been palpable moments before, and for that Conrí is grateful. He doesn't want the youngest pups in his clan fretting about these things. Life and death were such heavy concepts to force on a pup. Just as he would not want his own dear pup, Ceán, to be exposed to such heavy things he wants to protect Remus. There is such a large chance the babe will die. Now and again humans sought them out, longing to join. Few could survive. If they, men willing to take on the burdens of the clan, could not survive what chance did this unknowing babe?

Black fur is a welcomed and comforting sight for the leader. Walking forward he nuzzled his mate. Zaharia nuzzles back, watching him with concern. She has been with him for so many moons now, and she can tell by his scent, his walk, his eyes that there is something troubling her mate. "My alpha, what bothers you so?" Tilting her head, the black ears perk slightly as she waits for a response.

Conrí offers no such response. "Take the pups Zaharia. They shouldn't be present for this." Most of the clan, for that matter, would not be allowed. Fenrir, as the beta, will need be there. Both Arnou and his mate must be there as well. Outside them there were few he would wish to subject to this. Their gods, though benevolent, can be violent and there is always a risk for those involved.

It does not take long for the wolves to arrive. Looking over the assembled pack members, there is a swell of pride; just as there is whenever his pack is gathered. They are so varied and so strong. It is that strength that has seen them though the war so far, and will keep them going long after it ended. About to speak, the alpha suddenly cut himself off, seeing another wolven figure approaching.

If it had been anyone else Conrí would have continued on without care. But even the alpha bows his head to Marama's seer. The wolf approaching is a dull gray, though the dull coat seemed to hold an ethereal sheen to it. The gift of Marama's light. "They see him." An ear flicks and the alpha stays silent, hoping there is more. _They saw him?_ He knows the seer means Marama and Khon, who else could she mean? But it is so vague that the alpha wouldn't dare guess at the meaning.

"Khon watches. It will become clear summers from now, my alpha. They only wish you to know that they are watching him. This . . . pup."

Without bothering to say another thing or acknowledge the other members of the pack, the seer turns and walks the way she had come. Her business has been attended to, her message shared. She will return to communion with her god, return to her connection with the sweet Marama.

"Alpha . . . ?"

"I know not Fenrir. It matters not. Let us begin."

That night, as the moon rises, the pack returns to their beds. Those with pups collect them from the wolves who had not been apart of the ceremony. In the end, only two remain, Fenrir and Conrí, looking down at the small brown pup still wrapped in fabric. Hesitating a moment, Conrí finally takes his leave as well, leaving Fenrir alone with the dozing pup.

Fenrir makes no move to leave, not yet, not now. He is marveling at the miracle below him. Marveling at the fact this once-human is now pack, is now . . . his son. Fenrir has never expected to mate, never expected to have a son or daughter. But by some twist of fate this small helpless ball of fluff is his pup. His to raise, his to protect. Just the thought makes a warmth bloom in his chest and terror grip him. There is war, there is danger. If he fails this precious gift from Khon would be ripped away.

Gently, very gently, he leans down to grip the pup by the scruff of his neck. Carefully he walked to his den. Laying the pup down, he curls around him protectively and nuzzles the brown ball of fur. "Zeer. My son." Son, the word made warmth blossom in his chest once more. A small green eye opened and the beta licks at his head. "You will make a fine wolf demon Zeer. Never fear."

Across the woods a different scene was playing out. Petunia was sobbing, begging her sister to forgive her foolish hatred as Vernon searches in a panic. They had been there for hours, and will be there for hours more. Dudley, their son, is with a neighbor. Petunia had made some lie about a cousin in the hospital. But there is no cousin and is no hospital. There is only a desperate search. It hadn't taken long for regret to claw at the man and when he reached home he found his wife in the same state.

Even if she hated her sister, she could not bare to condemn her nephew to death. Surely, she had thought, Lily would understand her hesitation. She would take Harry home and raise him and ignore her differences with Lily.

But Harry was missing. And she knows that all the regret in the world will not make him appear there, happy and healthy.

Vernon and Petunia had no way to know that Harry James Potter was well and soundly dead—and in his place Zeer Khons Grayback had risen.

-TBC-


	3. 2

Moonlight Sonnet

Apogee Prelude Redux

By: Chaosticsoul

Summary: Despite abandonment at a young age, Zeer had a typical upbringing—for a wolf demon. But what is his connection to the missing savor of the wizarding world, Harry Potter?

Warning: Eventual BL, Very AU

AN:

Chapters are longer, and hopefully better.

Sorry I've been gone. School and reality decided to tag team me in a quite unpleasant way. I'm actually supposed to be studying for my finals but am instead doing this. When school is done my goal will be to update every week, but we'll see how it goes.

To TimeAndRhythmDoesIndeedSleep: You'll see Sirius' reaction in this chapter. I'm glad you're enjoying and sorry it's taken so very long for another chapter. Reality decided to take me for a ride.

To loup somber: I'm delighted to hear you enjoy the story and hope you enjoy what I had up on Crescent Overturn.

Part: 2/10

Where was Harry?

The thought tortures him as he runs down the streets in the dead of night, panting. The thought has been ever-present in his mind since the death of his only family, or who he ever considered family, a week ago. He still can't push the memory of James and Lily's bodies from his mind. The twisted frame, the paleness, the stench of death. And the only brightness of it was torn away by Dumbledore, ripped from his arms as he held the babe. _And then I'll take him to his family_. But what family? James had no family, and all Lily had was some miserable muggle sister. Some miserable muggle sister he had never met.

So he runs. Runs and searches, trying to catch the faintest scent of Lily and Jame's child, or of Lily's blood. Every day he sleeps for mere hours before searching again. Sometimes he appears as a human, but it is faster to run through the streets as a dog, chasing after shadows of hopes. The only light left in his life is fading.

Harry.

Where was Harry?

Eight days of searching with no results will tire anyone. So he finds a house reeking of cats and hides under a bush. The next morning though providence smiles on him—one of the cats is quite familiar, and is looking about the street in a quizzical way. Sirius rolls in the dirt some and backs up, glad he is downwind. He doesn't think the cat would recognize his scent anyways, she is just an animagus, but he takes no chances. She paces the street once, twice, before stopping at a nearby house and trying to peer through the window. She remains for hours, looking about the house before seeming to give up and retreat.

Tentatively he creeps from the bush and moves towards the house. As he nears he freezes, heart hammering in his chest. There it is! Faint and dusty, old, far too old, but it is his dear nephew's scent. Is he inside? He listens closely, the family is awake, but he doesn't hear Harry. Sneaking to the back he shifts into his human form, not caring how bedraggled he is. Pulling out his wand he unlocks the back door and sneaks inside, waiting. He needn't wait long until the woman appears, looking as unpleasant as Lily described.

Pinning her to the wall he can barely growl out the words: "Where is he?" Maybe, deep inside, he has the hope Harry is there somewhere, but the lack of his scent feeds his fears. "Tell me you damn woman, or I will snap your neck!"

But the horrible fear is sinking into her bones as she stutters out panicked excuses. He's too late. He's much too late.

Sebastian arrives with a missive from Severus and stays for toast long enough to _whoo_ disdainfully at the news owl who comes to deliver the paper. Picking up the news Lucius honestly expects nothing but boorish headlines on the clean-up of the war and who's being accused by who, something he couldn't care less about as his own name, as well as Severus' he would note, had already been cleared.

What he finds blaring up at him, however, is nothing like he expected.

**BOY-WHO-LIVED MISSING, PRESUMED DEAD! FAMILY SLAUGHTERED! GODFATHER, SIRIUS BLACK, MAIN SUSPECT**

With his eyes fixed to the page he reads the grim details of the report. The young Potter was missing, the family that had taken him in killed and the house burned. They presumed it was Sirius Black, as he had reportedly already been accused in murdering some Peter . . . something or other. That annoying rat-like man from the death eater meetings. Supposedly he had sold his soul to Voldemort and was going after everything good. Which was complete bullock, as that damn fool had never been invited into the fold.

Putting the paper down he had to laugh a bit at Dumbledore's expense. His golden boy was killed, and James' precious son was missing. What a state all those poofed up little light side floozies must be in. Luckily for him, Lucius didn't care. It would have no bearing on his life.

Oh, but he was so very wrong of that.

"Honey?"

Glancing up at his wife he smiled softly and tossed the paper to the fire. "Yes?"

"I was in the garden with Draco and there was this . . . this large dog. It burst into the garden and charged us."

This got his attention. Lucius shot up, eyes wide with worry. "Are you alright?" She wasn't hurt was she? "What about Draco?"

"Really Lucius . . . " The woman looked almost annoyed. "I can handle myself. The beast of a dog was not hard for me to stun. But the thing is . . . " She paused a moment and frowned. "The dog, it's a man. You remember Regulus, don't you dear?" The shy little black haired boy who had always reminded her of a puppy, her dear cousin. "It's his brother, Sirius. My cousin." The older of the two had come from a prominent dark family, but Sirius had been lead to the light by Potter. So why he would be here?

It would be simpler to just kill him and be done with it. But Lucius wanted to know what was going on. And, if Sirius had come here to try anything, he personally wanted to torture the man before ending him. Besides, if Narcissa had wanted him dead she would have done it herself. So, for now, he would be content to toss the man into the basement with the other hidden items to keep them safe from the ministry. Who knew, perhaps Sirius could be of use to them.

He would find out when the man eventually woke up.

-TBC-


End file.
